Leaving Nature

Let’s go, then, you and AI,
evenings lined up streaming
across the screen held upon
a tablet, let’s go where comma
dose takes a back seat rigged
to getting there, being there.
Let’s take a trip, swishing
rhyme in time, north by
northwest, and go climb
those frabjous rock sculpted
heads: Granite, Art Stew,
Gillian Fish holding a glass
of Golden Wine. Don’t ask,
don’t ask, let’s just go.

In the room the crawdads come and go
singing of a fellow follow afterglow.

My fall was not sudden chance,
still crush accident, the collapse
of dawn cultivation nightly forecast.
Unlikely I’ll keep track losing
the harvest, but no turning back
to nature I did not let go of.
Nature creeps thru the city where
cats carry rats into living rooms,
and not only that but just try
to find a place to park out at
the ball-field – let’s go, take me
out to the brand new ballgame.

This mural robot painted going
upcountry where nature seems
suspect, a solo sober primitive
guitar in the Valley of the Moon
played pizzicato inharmonicity.
An audience of two at a corner
table in a tavern near the wharf,
waitress telling her cat proudly
prancing whiskers wished clean
a blue-belly lizard into her lucky
little studio apartment couched
under the jets along the highway.

Another trip, a different time
and place, all the same, still,
let’s go, not to get it over with –
we’re out of coffee, and let’s
pick up some more ice cream
raspberry and mango sorbet.
I can’t remember the last time
I had a box of Cracker Jack,
but I’m sure the surprise is
nature’s leaving us alone
hiding out in the mangrove
adapting to our own changes
what we’ve called man made
night plastic light glowing
these imitation mermaids
singing to one another
while we walk along the beach
listening and combing one
another’s hair, nature’s leaves,
playing games and having fun,
and we stay leaving nature.